In the Name of Love
by puckleberryjam
Summary: He'd seen her. Dancing around her in underwear to 80s British rock. 'Maybe he won't mention it. Maybe it's all a dream. Maybe…' "Nice moves, Berry. But that's not how you play a guitar."


Prompt: _"She wanted to turn around and walk out, and pretend that this had never happened, but she found herself glued to the floor."_  
>Thanks to kirkclimbsmountains for betaing, and just being all around fabulous.<p>

Three weeks. That was all it took for Quinn to latch herself onto Finn's arm permanently, claiming their status and King and Queen of McKinley. Well, not King and Queen yet, seeing as Prom was a good three months away. But nevertheless, Rachel Berry was still single, and oddly enough, she was okay with it. She had taken Mercedes's advice, taking to heart the whole concept of remaining single. And frankly, it wasn't terrible. She'd gotten closer with the soulful diva, and she had taken it upon herself to spend time with Sam and Artie, once Brittany and Santana came to terms with their feelings. Lauren left Glee and Puck as soon as Kurt returned to McKinley, which came as no surprise.

No one vocalized their opinions when Zizes abandoned them. The shared relief was almost tangible.

Once Lauren was gone, Rachel found that her friendship with Noah only seemed to strengthen. She spent time with the mohawked boy, chatting with Mercedes while he, Artie, and Sam slaughtered each other in mind-numbing marathons of Halo. Sometimes the girls would join in. And while Mercedes could hold her own in the game, the boys would wind up laughing at Rachel. It wasn't her fault she got competitive and started ranting at her little soldier.

But tonight, Rachel was on her own. Mercedes was spending time with Kurt while Artie and Sam were going to see an outrageously violent movie. And Noah? Well, once he'd started mentioning a rather attractive waitress he'd met at Breadstix, Rachel had tuned him out. So she was left to amuse herself on a Friday night.

Her fathers were in Cleveland for the weekend, leaving their daughter alone in her house. And after she'd baked a pie and two dozen muffins, she abandoned the kitchen, heading upstairs to shower. When she was finished, it was only 8:45, and she was bored. Rachel _detested_being bored. It made her feel lazy, knowing that she had nothing else to do. She'd cleaned the kitchen and her bedroom, changed into her pajamas, which she'd wound up stripping off. It was warm in her house, and she figured it was perfectly acceptable to walk around in her blue cotton panties. She wasn't too scantily clad. She wore a fitted white t-shirt, and socks. Though not her usual knee socks. They were normal, blue and white striped, ankle socks. Excellent for sliding around on wooden floors. And that's when the genius, albeit, childish idea struck Rachel.

Within minutes, Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" filled her house, flowing from the speakers her fathers had installed all over when they'd first purchased the home. It was ridiculous and cliche, but that didn't stop Rachel from running through her living room, socks sliding against the glossy hardwood. She threw her head back, singing into one of the wooden spoons from the kitchen. She belted the overtly sexual lyrics, shaking her butt, riffing on an air guitar. She wasn't Rachel Berry, the diva, performing in front of a crowd, desperate for approval. She was just Rachel, acting utterly ridiculous in her home. She hopped around, jumping onto the couch, eyes closed as she leaned back, flipping her hair wildly as the song came to a close.

"Berry?"

Her eyes snapped open, toppling backwards onto the couch cushions as she stumbled to her feet, heart pounding violently in her chest. Noah stood in front of her, eyes wide in shock. She didn't know when he'd walked in, but she knew he'd seen enough, judging by how quickly his trademark smirk was appearing as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

He'd seen her. Dancing around her in underwear to 80s British rock. _Maybe he won't mention it. Maybe it's all a dream. Maybe..._

"Nice moves, Berry. But that's not how you play a guitar."

_Or he'll never let me live this down._And he just kept staring at her, burning holes through her shirt. She wanted to turn around and walk out, and pretend that this had never happened, but she found herself glued to the floor. She wanted pants, but she couldn't motivate herself to leave. Swallowing roughly, she tilted her head up towards him, setting her jaw. "It's not polite to just come into someone's house unannounced, Noah. I've told you that befo-"

"Why are you wearing panties with Mickey Mouse heads on them?"

That cut her off. She looked down at her bottoms, biting her lip tightly. "I didn't think I'd have company. I apologize. I'll go change."

And he was across the floor in half a second, hands curled around her waist, thumbs pressing lightly against her hipbones. "Don't. S'hot." He teased the elastic hem, smirking down at her with eyes that made her stomach clench nervously. She pressed her palms against his chest, willing him to step away. This was dangerous territory. This was Noah, her friend. He was no longer the boy she used to make Finn jealous. He was the boy who she called to watch movies with her, or eat leftovers vegan brownies. Besides, he hadn't viewed her sexually in awhile. It had been twenty-four days since he'd made some sort of sexual comment or pass. (Not that she'd been keeping track.)

"Didn't you have a date tonight?" She looked up at him, trying to resist the temptation of leaning into his touch.

"Didn't work out." He began rubbing light circles against her skin, making her quiver. "Her husband showed up."

"Oh. Well that's just lovely." She pushed his hands away, a bit more forcefully than necessary. He frowned, head tilted to the side as he looked down at her.

"You shouldn't leave your door unlocked." There was a new-found seriousness in his voice, and a crease had appeared between his eyes. He seemed almost concerned.

She blinked in shock, thinking back to when she'd gotten home. "I- I did lock it!"

"Yeah well." He gave her a cockeyed smirk as he held up a bobbypin. "Get a lock that ain't so fuckin' easy to pick."

"Noah!" She hoped her glare was effective, though judging by his unwavering smugness, it wasn't. "You could get arrested. _Again._" He just snorted and she huffed, trying to will herself to leave, but her legs were unwilling to move. She groaned quietly, settling on just pivoting on her heels, giving him a good view of her back (and later on she would realize, her ass).

"Oh come on, Rach," he whined, but she sniffed, feigning indifference. And then he fell quiet behind her. It should have unnerved her, but she wasn't thinking clearly. She rarely did around him.

"N-Noah?" She turned around and he pounced, an arm encircling her waist as he tackled her onto the couch. She squealed in protest, screwing her eyes shut as they landed on the cushions. They opened as he laughed above her, his chest rumbling against hers. She was furious, at least, she was trying to be. it was difficult when he was pressed so tightly against her.

"Get. Off." She punctuated each word with a breathy pant. He shook his head, smirking.

"Not a chance, babe." His fingers were brushing against her lower back, skin on skin. She wasn't sure when his hands had slipped under her shirt. All she knew was that it was incredibly distracting.

"Why are you here?" she managed, keeping her voice level.

"To see you."

"Why?"

"Knew you weren't doing anything." The fingers of his other hand were trailing up her arms. Wrist to elbow. Elbow to shoulder. Shoulder to wrist. There was no pattern to follow, to occupy her mind.

"How did you know?"

"Artie. And your Facebook status sounded super desperate."

"My status was _not_des-" Her voice trailed off as his lips dropped to her throat, kissing and suckling.

"No... Noah!" It was pathetic, how weak her protest sounded. He chuckled as he reached just behind her ear, nipping at her earlobe.

"Yeah babe?"

"You need to- to stop." Her sentence was broken up with a mewl as he licked the shell of her ear.

His lips tracked a line from her ear to her jaw, nudging a leg between hers. "Mmm. Why?" He chuckled as she arched into him, pressing his nose into her cheek, lips just to the side of hers. "I think you like it."

"Be-because." She turned her head away despite the burning inside her to kiss him. He pulled away with a groan, peering down at her, lips turned down. She stared up at him before continuing. "Because you're sexually frustrated because your date did not go as planned, and you saw me here in a state of undress, and you thought you could relieve some tension with me. Not because you're actually attracted to me." She sighed, offering him a sad smile. "Also because you're my friend and I don't-"

"Rachel."

"Yes?"

"Shut up." It wasn't harsh, and immediately after saying it he tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear. "I- shit, babe. I came here to hang out because that waitress was just... God, she was _stupid_. Like. I mean. Not Brittany stupid. Just like. Mean spirited stupid. So I ditched her." Rachel considered mentioning how rude that was, but she decided against it. She was more proud than anything else. And he was still talking. "So like. I don't know. I was kinda pissed and saw your status and didn't want you to be like, home alone on a Friday night, okay?" He rushed the last bit, hand cupping her neck, fingers teasing her hair at the base of her head. "And then you're fuckin' prancing around in your dorky panties and just. Damn, Rach. It's like, cute an' shit." He shrugged, eyes flitting to her lips. "I, like... I dig you. And it's weird."

She blinked twice, slowly, eyes squinting at him curiously. "Oh?" She wasn't sure how to respond to that. "If you find it weird, then you most likely..."

"Stop talking, okay?" He sighed, hand cupping her face, thumb swiping against her cheek. "What I'm _trying _to say is that I like you. A lot. As more than just some girl I hang out with. Or some hot chick I wanna bang. And you can like. You can be cool with that and kiss me. Or you can be totally grossed out and tell me to get lost. It's up to you, I guess."

Rachel didn't know it was possible for her skin to feel this hot, or for her heart to pound this quickly. She stared at him blankly for a moment, speechless, before curling her fingers into his hawk. "Noah." She tugged his head down so she could press her lips against his before mumbling, "I would never ask you to get lost."


End file.
